Faithful
by shooshyeah
Summary: She's never alone, and it feels good.
1. Chapter 1

She was five when her father read to her from the big book in his office. The one she had admired from afar since seeing it on the big shelf among the dizzying amounts of encyclopedias and informational texts. Her young brain was ravenous for knowledge, an unsuitable amount provided at the public school she begrudgingly attended. Books were attractive, and she liked to sit in Papa's big chair with the large ones in her lap and stare intently at the words of which she could only decipher a few. Just like Papa.

"What's it about, Papa?" she asked him when he seated himself in his deep brown leather armchair, tugging her into his lap. She still loved to sit with her Papa, even though Mom insisted she was getting too old.

He kissed the top of her head as her small fingers stroked the gold lettering on the cover of the heavy brown book. "Norse Mythology. Do you know what that is, April?" The small girl shook her head reluctantly, her big gray eyes riveted on the book, and he continued. "The Norse were a people, and they used these stories to explain why things happen. Like floods, earthquakes, and other natural disasters."

"Like the book Mom reads?" April sounded uncertain, remembering the time Mom told her about an ark with lots of animals on it.

Papa nodded, impressed she had made the connection, and then he grimaced. "Speaking of your mother, don't tell her I'm showing you this."

"Why?"

Giggles erupted in the small den as the professor tickled his only child, stopping once her cheeks turned red and pulling her closer to his side. "Because she doesn't like it. In fact she told me not to tell you about it."

"Why?" asked April again, looking up into her Papa's face expectantly. She liked that he never lied to her or made things up like Mom and other adults did.

"She doesn't believe in the stories and that the ones in her book are the only right ones."

April furrowed her dark red eyebrows. "But she doesn't know if that's true."

Papa smiled gently down at her, stroking the long wavy hair that rested down his daughter's back. "Exactly. Now, let's start at the beginning."

Mom came home from her errands a couple hours later, finding April and her father still reading in the chair. When they heard the door April gasped, struggling to get free and slide off the chair. She snatched the book up and ran with it to her room to hide it, able to hear her father chuckling quietly behind her. Once it was safely tucked underneath her pillows April hurried back down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

At the sound of raised voices she stopped turning and tip toeing into the living room instead. From there she could hear what they were saying and they wouldn't see her.

"Tanya, I don't know why you're so upset!" said Papa's voice, weary and frustrated.

There were slams and the rustle of grocery bags. "That's what's really at the heart of my problem, Sean. You don't understand how the things you do effect me and your daughter."

"What have I done now?" a groan and the scrape of a kitchen chair on linoleum.

Mom laughed humorlessly. "Let me rephrase that, actually. It's what you [i]don't[/i] do. Rather than grading the papers I know your students are expecting back, or cleaning, or paying bills, or – god forbid – working on the book you've been telling me is almost done for two and a half years, you're content to do nothing all day long but spoil April."

"Spoil her?" Papa sounded confused and upset. April fiddled with the hem of her dress nervously as she listened. "Is that what you call spending time with her? I know it's a foreign concept to you."

"Don't you dare." the female voice in the room was deadly. "You know what I'm talking about. She doesn't ever want to go anywhere, and she doesn't want to play with any friends. I don't know if she even has any friends! All she ever does is sit with you in that room, or outside. And you coddle her, teaching her things that the school says she isn't ready for yet. You've probably screwed her mental development all to hell!"

Papa scoffed. "Are you hearing yourself right now? You're calling it a bad thing that I like to teach my daughter? And who the hell is the school to tell me what she can or can't learn? All they teach her in that underfunded, creation-sucking penitentiary is how to color inside the lines and write in cursive! When have you ever used cursive, Tanya? Tell me!"

"You're insane!" hissed his wife, obviously trying to keep her voice down. "Our daughter is not a robot for you to program to believe the same things you do, Sean! I know you had a shitty childhood, I really know, but don't you see what's wrong with this? With keeping her locked up in here like some experiment of yours?"

April frowned, standing hesitantly just inside the doorway to the living room. She didn't understand what they were arguing about. She liked being at home with Papa, and she liked learning from him. He was smart. Why was Mom so unhappy?

"No, Tanya, because unlike you I don't make every god damned thing about me." growled Papa, also keeping his tones low. "The only reason we have this argument every time you're home – which seems to be less and less lately – is because you're jealous that she loves me-"

Mom interrupted, as if she couldn't bear to hear the end of Papa's sentence, with hurtful words that April didn't understand. "Do you molest her?...Do you, Sean?"

A silence that was heavy and long fell in the kitchen. April bit her lip, feeling scared and unsure. She didn't like it when Mom and Papa fought, and they had been fighting a lot. About how much money Mom spent on her yoga classes and credit cards, how Papa left the house less and less, and how April didn't have friends and she was abnormal for her age. None of it made sense to the girl.

"What did you just say to me?"

April's eyes widened, unsure if that was her Papa in there anymore. He sounded so angry, like he was shaking. Mom was frightened, too. "You h-heard me. I asked you if you molest April."

The chair scraped again, louder and faster, followed by quick footsteps. Mom let out a muffled shriek, and there was a clunk of something hitting the counter. April listened intently, her heart beating quickly inside her ribs.

"I love my daughter more than anything in this world." Papa was definitely shaking now, his voice on the other side of the kitchen. Mom whimpered. "And because I show that to her every time I have an opportunity you accuse me of…molesting her?" there was another pause, and then Papa exploded. "You BITCH! You cold-hearted, shameful excuse for a mother!"

Mom started yelling again, and April knew that she had to do something. She didn't know what, but before she could think much about it she ran into the kitchen and screamed out 'Papa!'.

Papa was pressing Mom to the counter, one hand over her mouth and the other on her throat. Her hands were clawing at him but he didn't seem to notice. Until April came into the room. Then he stopped and quickly took a step back, looking over at her with manic eyes, panting. April stared back at him, her bottom lip starting to quiver.

"April."

Mom left soon after April came into the kitchen and she hadn't been back, so Papa was tucking her into bed. He usually did.

"April, I…" She glanced at Papa, settled underneath her yellow comforter. He was sitting on the edge of her bed near her arm, changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants and looking exhausted. Before going on her ran a hand through his hair, almost the exact same color as his daughter's. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I don't like fighting with Mom."

April wiggled her arms free from the blanket so she could pat the back of Papa's hand. "I know, Papa."

For a moment Papa looked like he might cry, moving his hand over April's and giving it a squeeze. "I'm still sorry. I love you, kid."

It still didn't make sense, and April didn't like being confused. So she sat up a little, turning and digging under her pillow for the thick book. When she handed it to Papa he smiled, setting it in his lap.

"How about we read some more tomorrow?" he suggested, eyes sad.

Disappointed, April nodded. "'Kay. First thing in the morning?"

"First thing." Papa set the book aside and leaned down, releasing April's hand to smooth her hair as he kissed her forehead. "'Night, little lady."

"Love you, Papa."

"Love you more."

He stood up, walking towards the door with the book under his arm. Before he could flip off the light April spoke up in a tentative voice. "Papa?"

"Hm?" he turned, hand on the door knob.

April swallowed, unsure about what she was going to ask. "If I want to ask the gods for something…what do I do?"

Grinning, Papa leaned against the door to answer her. "You pray to them. Just like Mom taught you to do."

"But I talk to them and not Jesus?"

"That's right…Why d'you ask?"

She shifted underneath her covers, wrinkling her nose. "It's a secret."

For a long moment Papa looked at her, his expression far away. April didn't know what he was thinking about, but it didn't matter with Papa. She knew that he would always be there, and that was enough for her.

"Okay then, woman of mystery. Get some sleep."

The light turned off and April was alone, looking at the purple glow of her nightlight. Mom would probably come home late or maybe in the morning, and the quiet arguing would drift down the hall. April wasn't sure if she would be asleep or not, because she had a lot she wanted to say.

Before she started April rolled onto her side, putting her back to her room and clenching her eyes shut. Then she clasped her hands together under her chin and started to talk inside her head.

"[i]Dear Loki[/i]…"

****I'm not sure if I'm going to make this its own story (a short one) and make a long sequel, or just combine them. If anyone who reads this and likes how it starts would review and say which sounds better I'd appreciate it. I'll just go ahead and say that there will be extreme adult situations in the sequel or later in this. Like very extreme. But anyway tell me what you think. Thanks!****


	2. Chapter 2

He knew the difference between fading into the background against his will and purposefully doing so, and on that particular day he was doing the latter.

"Brother, where are you going?"

The insufferable voice spoke and Loki thought for a moment he would whirl around and pelt the knife in his hand at his elder brother. Instead he paused in walking away to turn his head and respond.

"I've grown tired. Please, go on without me."

Thor laughed, the sound bouncing off the high walls of the training area. "Such a poor sport! Don't run away only because you lost."

"I'm not running away, I am leaving, and it is not because I lost it is because I am exhausted. Not everyone finds it pleasurable to hack at a lifeless target for hours on end."

Loki kept walking, going faster when his brother laughed again. He was holding tightly to the small weapon, furious at it as well as Thor. His common sense had told him to decline his brother's challenge to a throwing match with magic forbidden, but his pride had not.

And watching Mjolnir fly directly into the blasted center of the target while his knife was always just a little off had swiftly put him in a bad mood.

Truthfully, everything had been putting him in a bad mood lately. His parents, his friends, his brother. Well, Thor could always get to him, but he had even snapped at his mother the other day. Loki had apologized immediately and felt awful afterwards, but it hadn't changed his foul temperament. At least he hadn't mouthed off to Father. No matter his mood Loki knew better than that.

He wanted to be alone, so he walked towards his rooms. The few guards he passed nodded slightly in recognition, and Loki ignored them completely. The moment he went through his door and locked it behind him Loki threw his knife at the wall, thinking angrily that he would repair the hole later. The door to his balcony opened at a flick from his hand, Loki stalking out and bracing his hands on the golden railing.

When he was a child he had marveled at this view. The deep violet sky swirled with gold and magenta, speckles of white and green twinkling in the distance. It was a beautiful place, spectacular to behold, that much Loki could still see. Yet he didn't feel the same awe, or the desire to stay there forever.

He was wholly unsatisfied, and he had no idea why.

Did he not have everything he could ever dream of? He was a god, the son of the father of everything, living in an enormous palace with hundreds if not thousands of servants at his disposal at any given time. On top of that he was a master of magic, so if there was something the servants couldn't bring him, he could simply conjure it from thin air. The entire world – and many other worlds – was literally at his fingertips, and Loki was not happy.

What would make him happy? He considered a vacation somewhere far from Asgard, with a vastly different culture. Then Loki remembered that of all the other worlds he had visited, none were as advanced as his home. And he didn't have much patience for beings that weren't as intelligent as him.

Maybe he needed a new hobby. It had seemed that his magic was boring him lately. Loki rolled his ice blue eyes upwards at the thought, sighing a little in annoyance. He didn't like sports, he didn't like the arts, and he didn't really like other people. What hobby could he take up? Reading? He'd already finished enough books to fill a library, and he hated re-reading them.

Never mind, a hobby wouldn't make him happy anyway.

Loki began to wallow, his angst and his uncertainty filling him up like a fog. He felt so on edge, a tightness filling his chest and capturing his every thought. How dreadful to live forever with no purpose, Loki thought to himself bitterly. Thor had a purpose. A purpose that he would no doubt fail at if he was as awful a king as an older brother. Loki groaned, leaning an elbow on the rail of his balcony and going to place his chin in his hand.

But a soft voice in his head that was not his own inner monologue stopped him.

"[i]_Dear Loki_[/i]…"

There was a pause in which Loki opened his eyes and stared around, shocked, not believing that someone could have snuck up on him. It would have been impossible for anyone to enter his room without him noticing, and that was the only way out to the balcony. He straightened up and spun around, but he was indeed alone.

Just as he started to think that he must be insane as well as miserable, the little voice interrupted him again. "[i]_Um, I want to ask you some things…but I don't know how to start…well, you're probably wondering why I'm praying to you, the god of mischief, instead of Odin or Thor_[/i]…"

Loki stared blindly into his room, flabbergasted by what he was hearing. Praying to him? No one had prayed to him for over four hundred years, and even then it was always horrid people. People that wanted to get away with crimes or exact revenge. This sounded like a young child. He listened intently, head cocked to the side as if that would help.

"[i]_I think that just because you like to pull tricks on people doesn't mean you're bad, and I think you know how to get things done…and I really need help_[/i]."

There was another delay, and Loki wondered if it was the person stopping to think or if it was his own mind struggling to understand. He could hardly remember what it was like to be prayed to. His brow set in concentration, Loki chewed on his thumbnail as he wandered slowly into his bedchamber.

He could even hear the voice take a deep breath. "[i]_Mom and Papa are always fighting, and I think they're fighting about me. But I don't get it…Anyway, what I want is for you to…make them stop_[/i]."

Loki sat down on the edge of his bed, pursing his lips and thinking. This was not anything like the requests he used to get. He wasn't sure if he felt more befuddled or curious, but it was in his nature to be curious. The child thought he 'got things done'? What on Asgard did that mean? Loki found himself almost smirking as the voice cleared its throat and went on.

"[i]Mom needs to quit telling Papa that he's lazy, because he isn't, and Papa needs to quit yelling so much…They both get so mad…You can do something…right, Loki? I bet you could trick them into being happy[/i]."

That last part startled him a little. What kind of child said things like that? If he had been a more sympathetic god he might have been saddened, but he was only surprised and growing ever more interested in why this child of Midgard was beseeching him.

Sounding a little disappointed, the voice in his head sighed. "[i]Okay, that's all…Thanks…Um, Amen…from April[/i]."

Then there was silence, and Loki chuckled just a little. Amen? So her name was April. Loki didn't know exactly what he was going to do about this child yet, but he knew he wanted to see her. It was possible she deserved a reward for her faith, he snickered to himself. With a snap of his fingers he was on the rainbow bridge approaching the looming gold figure of Heimdall.

"You wish to travel to Midgard?" said the deep resonating voice of the Gate Keeper, watching Loki come closer with penetrating orange eyes.

Loki couldn't help the amusement he was showing in his face and jaunty walk. "You heard the girl, then?"

"Nothing escapes me here." Heimdall replied matter-of-factly. "Do you mean to answer her?"

"I don't know yet, but I do wish to see my newest disciple."

Heimdall's expression never changed, but he appeared to know something Loki didn't. As he usually did, much to the god's displeasure. "Be careful what you do on Midgard, Master Loki. Their customs now drastically differ from the old ways."

"I know that." snapped Loki, though he wasn't sure if he did. He hadn't been on Midgard for…well, nearly as long as the last prayer he'd heard. "Will you let me pass?"

Without another word Heimdall turned, entering the massive golden ball that would shoot Loki to Earth like a comet. Loki followed suit, standing with his back to Heimdall and facing the bright blue vortex he would enter. When the high scraping of Heimdall's sword entered Loki's ears the god shut his eyes, waiting for the jarring sensation of flying through the Bifrost. Just as he felt the tugging at all his limbs like he was the marionette to an aggressive puppeteer, Loki heard Heimdall warn him one last time.

"Be mindful of your actions on Midgard, Loki."

Loki wanted to give a sharp retort, but instead he was lifted from the ground and tumbled unceremoniously through space and time. He opened his eyes, finding himself encased in the neon blue of the Bifrost, twirling around him at the speed of light. It was only a split second later that the soft soles of his black boots landed on hard ground.

Blinking to refocus his vision, Loki found himself standing outside a white building with two stories. It was an oddly shaped building, very rectangular with a sloped gray roof. Its architecture was nothing like the structures on Asgard, or the homes Loki had seen on Midgard before. Things really had changed. The large black vehicle sitting beside the house attested to that.

What a strange place, mused Loki as he took a few slow steps towards the house. His feet touched grass and Loki hesitated. Asgard didn't have the soft green covering on the ground, only smooth black soil that grew their produce. Suddenly he realized he was distracted, glancing up and down the street to be sure he was alone. The sky was dark, meaning night on Midgard, tall wooden posts casting circles of light on the dark gray road. No light came from the other homes, and Loki grimaced a little.

Maybe this hadn't been the best idea. He was easily distracted by the things he didn't understand. Vulnerable. Loki even started to step backwards, opening his mouth to tell Heimdall to open the Bifrost; but the same little voice from earlier spoke up again. It was much louder, almost causing Loki to jump at the sudden noise, and it sounded as if she was falling asleep.

"[i]Oh_, and I want to have magical powers…like you_[/i]."

It made him smile in a way that was almost genuine, something he hadn't done for a very long time. He had to see this child who desired his help, who wanted to be like him. And besides, Loki told himself, it isn't like he had anything else to do.

Rather than try to enter the house conventionally and hopefully not wake her parents, Loki blinked and was in her room. It was dark except for a purple light glowing faintly on the lower part of the wall, but Loki didn't have much time to look around before his head spun. He shook his head, trying not to make a small sound of nausea. It seemed that all the time between his last visits had also made him forget that his magic was limited on Midgard. He would need to be careful.

Once he felt less dizzy Loki inspected the room, an eyebrow raised at how odd it was. Rather small, the walls appeared to be white, decorated with many drawings in crayon and marker, and above the bed was a map of Midgard. Behind Loki against the far wall were a small dresser and bookshelf, the shelf bursting with books that all looked well-worn. A box of toys that appeared relatively untouched was at the end of the bed, which was long but thin and covered up a small lump with a yellow blanket.

Loki sighed, wondering what he had expected. Certainly a sleeping little girl, but what else? He didn't dwell on it for long, because the girl was sitting up in bed fast as a lightening bolt and staring right at him. He was so stunned he didn't have the good sense to make himself invisible to her. Why hadn't he thought of that in the first place? Midgard really did throw him off.

What she said next only furthered his surprise. "Loki?"

What should he say? She had seen him, was still seeing him. It was late to just disappear. In the old times he had appeared to mortals more than once, mortals who he thought particularly deserving of his assistance, so why not now? After all, she was only a child. It was likely she wouldn't remember this, and if she did what adult Midgardian would believe her?

"Yes." he answered her simply, not quite sure what he was going to say next. "I am Loki of Asgard."

Her small jaw popped open as she gaped at him. She was a strange mortal. Small with very long hair, gnarled around her face from tossing in her bed, and big gray eyes staring at him incredulously. Loki bit back a smirk, knowing what a sight he must have been to a puny mortal such as her.

"You look different than I thought you would."

His thin black eyebrows shot clear back up to Asgard. "What?"

She grunted in exertion as she struggled free of her blankets. "No helmet or armor. And don't you have a magic staff thing?"

Who did this girl think she was? Loki glared at her, wondering what had given her the idea that she could speak to him in such a way. Mortals used to respect him, fear him. She must have been hell for her parents. It took every shred of his self-control not to conjure his 'magic staff thing' and rip her to shreds. But she was only a child.

"Did you come here to help me?"

He wasn't so sure now. "I don't know. You seem like an insufferable brat."

That shocked her into silence only for a moment, and then she stood up on her bed and tilted her head at him. "Are you mad at Thor?"

An impertinent child. "That's hardly your business."

"But I want to know!" she jumped down, freezing when her landing made a loud thump. She gripped the collar of her nightdress with both hands and whispered. "We have to be quiet. Mom isn't home yet and Papa's sleeping."

Loki didn't know what to make of her. "What do you want?"

That seemed to throw her for a bit of a loop. "I…don't know. I didn't think you'd come."

"Ah." They were on the same page in that area. Why had he gone there? Just to have an inane conversation with some subpar Midgardian runt? Loki felt abruptly angry at himself, planning to disappear back outside and retreat for Asgard with his tail between his legs.

But for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, the small girl halted him in his pursuit of a normal night.

"Do you like carrot cake?"

Loki didn't like not knowing what was being talked about. "I've never had it." he replied tersely, still looking down his nose at her.

"Mom cooks good. I'll get you some."

She crossed the distance between them, Loki stiffening defensively when she stopped just a foot in front of him. The top of her head barely cleared his waist. With no hesitance in her at all she held her hand up to Loki, chin slanted back so she could see his face. Loki gave the little hand a disdainful look, then turning it to her eyes. Bright with excitement at his appearance in her room. Hopeful. Innocent.

He didn't know what he was doing, but he held out two fingers for her to take.

The miniature palm that closed around his long white fingers was incredibly warm, and the girl shivered when she felt his skin. "You're cold."

Loki didn't respond. He had always been cold, much colder than any other Asgardians. But he never felt it. That is until that tiny insignificant human touched him. When the girl realized he wasn't going to say anything she spun to pull him from her room, Loki following her in a bit of a daze. This was so very unlike him, and he had no explanation for it.

Just as the girl's free hand grasped her doorknob there was a bang from the lower half of the building. Her shoulders became rigid, her grip on Loki's fingers tightening. Loki listened closely, able to hear a jingling sound and a few thumps. The child who had been leading him twisted back around, face now full of fear.

"You have to hide!"

A scandalized gasp escaped Loki when she shoved his stomach, pushing him back towards her closet. He stumbled, then snarled as she moved behind him to open up the closet. "You do not [i]_maneuver_[/i] a god, foolish mortal!"

"I'm sorry, but Mom is going to come in here and she can't see you. She doesn't like the Norse gods."

That confused Loki, but he didn't have time to mention it. Heavy footsteps were trudging up the stairs, and the girl grabbed onto his hand with both of hers, clutching it as she looked up at him pleadingly. "Please, Loki?"

He had every intention of shaking her off, leaving and calling for Heimdall. Forgetting the entire experience after a week or so and going on with his life. But the revelation came to him that this was the most exciting thing he had done in a long time. Was it not better to hide in a small girl's closet like a monster than rot in a palace bemoaning his fate?

"Fine." he hissed in defeat, walking his feet backwards until they bumped something. A glance down told him it was a pile of stuffed animals at the bottom of the girl's closet. He nudged them away with a reproachful look.

April beamed at him as she shut the door. "Just until she leaves, okay?"

When it became clear she expected a response he sighed in annoyance. "Okay."

Then the door was slammed in his face, and the god of mischief peered out through the horizontal blinds of the closet door as April leapt back into her bed and burrowed under the covers. It was only a few seconds later that the bedroom door opened, a woman's head covered in large blonde curls poked inside.

"April?" rasped the woman, her words slightly slurred. "You asleep, baby?"

Her daughter didn't reply, and Loki smirked a little from his place inside the closet. What child as young as her knew how to feign sleep? It was rather impressive. The woman entered the room, walking slowly so she would be quiet, and kissed April's hair before exiting just as carefully. A moment after there was the sound of another door opening and shutting, April rolled over and lifted her head to look at the closet, her face aloof as she listened to make sure her parents wouldn't return.

Once she was sure, she crawled back down and ran on her toes to the closet. Opening the door gingerly so it wouldn't squeak, she looked at Loki with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. He really tried not to smile at her, using every ounce of his famed powers of stoicism.

But he was unsuccessful.

April's expression turned comically serious. "We have a lot to talk about."


	3. Chapter 3

When April woke up the next morning she grinned wider than her small face could accommodate.

She scrambled out of her bed, feet tangling in her excitement to get to her closet. Her face landed in the rough white carpet of her floor and she grimaced, ignoring the pain and hurrying to get up. Flinging the door open, she looked expectantly inside.

And found only her clothes and the stuffed animals she never played with.

April frowned, confused. Pushing aside the clothes revealed nothing except the back wall. There was nothing under her bed either. Standing in the middle of her room, April let out a huff of frustration. Where was Loki? He'd said he would be there. The sounds of someone moving about downstairs spurred April to get dressed for the day. He would be back.

She needed to talk to Papa.

Once her pajamas were discarded and she was wearing one of her many summer dresses April hopped down the stairs, nearly bursting with her excitement. She could still hardly believe it was real. There was no one in the kitchen, so April doubled back into the living room. Papa was sitting in the chair in the corner. She hadn't seen him. Why hadn't he said good morning?

"Papa." she called his name and walked towards him on her toes. The way he looked made her pause.

Usually Papa wore a long-sleeved button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, khaki pants with a leather belt, and shiny brown shoes, even at home. It was odd that he was still in his sleeping clothes by the time April woke up. Also his usually neat hair was disheveled, hanging into his face. His bloodshot eyes remained on the floor, even when April came closer and tentatively tapped his knee.

"Hello, Papa." April kept her voice low. Something was wrong and she was beginning to feel scared. "Are you okay?"

Still Papa didn't say anything. He didn't seem to know she was there. April bit her lip and brought one hand up to tug on a strand of her long hair, something she did when she was nervous. It was so quiet in the house she could hear Papa breathing, a long and labored wheeze from somewhere deep in his chest. He had never acted like this before. Not so bad anyway.

Where was Mom? April looked around the room, her stomach starting to churn a little. The joy she had felt was gone, replaced by anxiety and uncertainty. Her parents had been acting strange for some time, but this appeared to be different. Papa hadn't shaved, and he didn't smell like the soap that he usually did. April looked at him and wasn't sure if she knew him.

"April."

Her head snapped back to Papa, who was now looking at her. April pulled harder on her hair, wanting to step away. But it was Papa, and he would never hurt her. Not ever.

"Come here, April."

She knew to listen when Mom or Papa told her to do something, and she went to him. Papa cupped her face between his rough palms, looking into her eyes like he didn't know who she was. The gray eyes that Mom had. Papa swallowed, his chapped lips opening to speak.

"Whatever Mom tells you…I love you, okay?"

April felt an overwhelming urge to cry, but she breathed through her nose until it went away. "Yes, Papa."

"It isn't that I don't care…I care so much." Papa sobbed, his hold on her cheeks tightening. April had never seen him cry, and it scared her more than anything else. Tears leaked out of his eyes so suddenly, as if he had barely been holding them back. "She doesn't know what's happening inside me…I don't know…"

The young girl looked helplessly back at her father. The one who was supposed to guide her and couldn't. He couldn't even guide himself. April jerked her head back and out of his grasp suddenly, and Papa's hands fell limply to his lap. He forgot her again. April ran into the kitchen and out the back door.

The backyard was large, a shed sitting in the left corner where Papa stored what little tools he had. Behind the shed was a clump of bushes that had grown about five feet tall over an old boulder, and that was where April hid herself. Her hair caught on the branches, but she disregarded the tug at her scalp as she crawled in and sat on the boulder. It was dark in her little cave despite the bright summer morning, and April relished the fact that she wouldn't be found.

Her petite body was extraordinarily numb. April tucked her legs up and hugged them, resting her chin between her knees and breathing out slowly.

Was this her fault? Papa wasn't Papa and the world didn't make sense. It left her without any allies, because Mom was just Mom and she loved her but it was different. Would Papa come back?

"What are you doing back here?"

April gasped, eyes flicking over to see the man from her room. He was bent down to peer at her, face bemused at the way she was sitting. He looked the same as the night before, but it was different to see him in the sun. Very pale skin, jet black hair, eyes like blue ice, and weird green and black clothes. April scooted over on the boulder, bashfully patting the space next to her.

Loki's expression was disapproving. "Really?"

A wordless nod was the only answer he received, and after a moment of pursing his lips Loki made a martyred face at her and used his hand to part the brush enough for him to crawl under. He had to hunch over quite a bit so his head wouldn't be sticking right into the thickest part of the bushes. April faced forward again, her brow creasing in thought.

He didn't know why he'd returned to the ugly white house. He was telling himself it was curiosity.

If Loki had said he genuinely didn't want to see the child again he would have been lying. Yet he had spent the five days since he'd seen her last debating with himself over whether it was the right thing to do. His plan had been to never see her after that one night, fading into her juvenile memory as a dream. But she had made him promise. He hadn't meant to promise anything, especially not to a meaningless human, but she had turned the full force of her doe eyes on him and he'd nodded where he meant to shake his head.

In the old times he had appeared to mortals quite a few times, but very rarely more than once. It hadn't been as risky then, when the gods were worshipped as a part of every day life. Those were the days. Now, on the other hand, no one believed in the gods, and showing himself more at all could cause pandemonium if he wasn't careful.

Well, no one believed in the gods except April. Maybe that was why he came back. Also, though the desire to do so was much less than his other reasons, Loki wanted to listen more to the girl's parents. The way they shouted at each other fascinated him in a morbid way, so foreign to his ears. His own parents never fought in such a way, so spiteful and full of hate. If Frigga and Odin fought at all there was always a quiet and heartfelt apology, after which Loki could scarcely stand to be around them, their eyes constantly connecting, brimming with love.

Loki doubted there had ever been any true love between April's sires.

When he entered the house this time he cloaked himself in his magic, invisible to any mortal's eyes. He walked into the living room and saw a man slumped over in an armchair, realizing that he probably could have strode through the house as visible as could be and the man would have done nothing. Loki studied him for a moment, deciding that there was something wrong with him, and then proceeded up the stairs towards April's room.

Soft noises were coming from the room at the end of the hall, and Loki paused to listen. It was the girl's mother, speaking to someone and crying. "I never thought it would get this bad." she whispered.

Shaking his head slightly, Loki pushed on the door to April's room. It opened with a quiet creak Loki was confident no one would hear, but he frowned upon gaining the knowledge that April was not inside it. Her bed was unmade and the lavender nightdress she'd been wearing was on the floor. Loki shook his head again. Messy child.

The house was ominously silent besides the background noise of April's mother, and Loki began to wonder with a rather uncomfortable feeling in his chest if something had happened to the girl. She had asked him for help after all. Something told Loki to look out her window, and he did so just in time to see her long auburn hair flying like a cape behind her as she dived behind the little square building in the back yard.

Sighing, Loki twitched his fingers and landed on the slightly moist grass of the fenced in area. He walked the same path she had run, baffled when he found nothing but a large clump of bushes. What mortal could disappear into thin air? It took him a moment of staring and a small movement from inside the shrub to make him understand that was where April had hidden.

Unsure if he should be more entertained or concerned, Loki went closer to the thick plant and bowed to gaze inside. April sat on a large rock that was disguised by the brush, wearing a bright yellow summer dress and holding her knees to her stomach. Loki watched her a second longer before announcing his presence.

"What are you doing back here?"

A little noise of surprise escaped the girl, her round white face turning sharply towards Loki. She stared at him for a moment, like she was inspecting him, then her cast down again. Loki watched her scoot over and pat her hand on the space next to her. He realized what she meant and made a reproachful face.

"Really?"

April only nodded. Loki was about to refuse and either wait for her to come out or leave, but he noticed the slight downward twist of her lips and he stopped.

Why did she keep doing this to him?

Putting on his best suffering countenance, Loki pushed some of the branches out of his way and crumpled himself down so he would fit in next to April. His spine was curved rather uncomfortably, his legs were sticking out of the bush, and the boulder was very harsh on his bottom. Loki sighed in defeat, bowing his head so the leaves wouldn't tangle in his hair.

He looked at April from the corner of his eye, fairly surprised she wasn't speaking yet. The night they met she hadn't closed her infernal mouth for over an hour, blathering about books she had read and things her father had taught her. It had made Loki slightly sentimental, recalling the way he had idolized his father when he was a boy. How easily clouded the eyes of a child were.

Loki was better at being resentful than sentimental.

Still, the long silence was a source of apprehension for him. He wasn't one for conversation unless he wanted something, so he had been counting on the girl to provide it. Just before he could open his mouth to try and coax something out of her when an almost inaudible whimper came from April as she flung her arms around Loki.

Horror didn't begin to describe how the god felt as the little girl buried her face in the material of his shirt and sobbed. His arms coiled away from her, but he managed not to jump away by telling himself that she would land face-first on the rock. And the last thing he needed was a blubbering Midgardian girl with a bloody nose.

"Um…" he looked around powerlessly, now completely at a loss regarding what to do.

Through her weeping she was saying something. About her father, the way the house sounded, and her nightmares. He hadn't the slightest clue what she meant, but it was obvious she was distressed. What was he supposed to do? He had been a child once, hadn't he? He should know this. Loki thought of what Mother had done when he was upset, and despite how embarrassed he knew it would make him feel, he also knew it would be better than just letting her wear herself out.

"There, there." Loki said stiffly, his left arm gingerly moving so it was sort of hovering just an inch away from her back. "It's alright."

April snuffled loudly, leaning even more against him. Loki glared upwards for a moment, unable to curse any god but himself as he let his arm rest against her. But the effect was instantaneous, the girl's sobs beginning to slow. Loki glanced at her askance again, only able to see the top of her chestnut hair. He could feel her breathing, and the hummingbird beating of her heart.

He would not have admitted it under any amount of duress, but it was calming.

When Loki considered his situation he was confused. This helpless little being was looking to him for comfort. The god of lies and mischief, one feared or respected, occasionally admired, but never any source of relief to anyone. Not even his own family. And it was nice to be needed. Even by a mewling human.

After a few more moments April was breathing almost evenly and her tears had stopped. She rubbed her face on his jacket, which Loki grit his teeth and accepted, not exactly pleased with the fact that he was being used as a tissue. Her bout of sadness mostly over with, April turned her face up to look at him.

His nostrils were flared and his eyes were guarded, but he didn't seem angry with her. April sat up, Loki's arm automatically sliding away from her and back to his side. The girl wiped her face on her arm, taking a few more shuddering breaths. Loki watched her, finding himself almost charmed by the sight.

Her eyes red and puffy, tears clinging to her dark lashes, her nose and lips pink. She was a tricky mortal. At the same time he wanted to shout at her he wanted to stroke her hair. Such a surprising feeling.

Loki was glad when she spoke, removing him from this line of thought that made him restless.

"Stay here…I'll get you that carrot cake now."

****I enjoy writing this a lot! Please comment and tell me what you think****


	4. Chapter 4

"What do you mean it's been five days?"

Loki sighed. "Time is different in our realms. Since I was here last it has been five days in Asgard."

"Oh…that's a long time. It was just a few hours for me…What did you do?"

So the questions were back. Maybe the crying had been better. "I performed the duties I am obligated to."

"You talk weird." April muttered, digging her bare toes into the dirt. Before Loki could answer she gestured at the plate in his lap. "You liked the carrot cake, huh?"

"For piteous Midgardian cuisine it is astonishingly tolerable." Loki was the picture of distaste, but in his mind he was cursing the fact that this food did not exist in Asgard. Such a wonderful combination of spices, slightly savory and tingly on his tongue, topped with tangy white cream that perfectly complicated the more pungent flavors.

April wrinkled her nose at him, pausing in the process of building a mound of dirt. They had moved from the bush at the multiple complaints from Loki, now sitting behind the shed on the grass. Loki tried not to dwell on the fact that he was sitting on the ground. The girl was talking again, and it was a welcome diversion.

"I can get you another piece." offered April, brushing her hands off on her dress. "Mom made a whole bunch for her book club but they were all on a diet."

Deciding not to question about book clubs or diets, Loki only shook his head. Honestly he wanted more, Midgardian food didn't begin to fill him up as quickly as Asgardian food, but he didn't want to ask for it.

The girl shrugged and abruptly moved so she was sitting directly in front of Loki, facing him and mimicking how he was sitting. Legs folded criss-cross, hands on knees, back impeccably straight. Loki quirked an eyebrow at her, but she only made her own face very serious and looked into his eyes.

"What would you do? If Odin and Frigga stopped loving each other?"

To hear this mortal speak of his parents as if she knew the, was worthy of saying their names, was jarring. Yet he didn't feel the need to shout at her. Or destroy her. It was remarkable how patient he was with her, especially to him, since he had been so short with every other being he knew. Loki considered the question, drumming his fingers on his knee. April did the same.

"They will never cease to care for one another, making yours a quite redundant inquiry…but I understand what you mean. You wonder why this has happened to your parents."

April looked away from Loki, at the fence that separated her yard from the neighbor's. "They always fought. But now I think they hate each other. Is it my fault?"

"I don't see how a child could instigate such a thing, but I don't pretend to understand the romantic customs of mortals." Loki's face puckered a bit at the thought. "Unless a child was not what they wanted."

Her dark eyebrows rose, an epiphany in her eyes as they went back to Loki. "Papa told me I'm his dream come true, but Mom doesn't say that. Do you think Mom didn't want me?"

"I do not know what your mother thinks, but it is a possibility." Loki glanced towards the house, a bit troubled that the girl's parents didn't seem at all worried about their young daughter's whereabouts. "Not all are meant to be mothers or fathers."

April nodded, pondering. After a rather long silence she addressed Loki again in what was almost a whisper. "If I left would it help? Maybe I don't…belong here."

The words pinged off a sensitive chord inside Loki. The girl continued to astonish him with her maturity and ability to perceive adult concepts. Feeling as if she was the outcast, a pariah in her own home. Loki knew this feeling too well. For the first time he felt wholly empathetic towards the small creature who had drawn him in with prayer and kept him there with her strangeness.

"From what I know of parenthood they would be obligated to find you. And where would you go, you mad infant?" Loki bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't smile.

Seemingly offended at being called a mad infant, April puffed out her chest. "I could go anywhere I wanted to!"

"Oh, you could? Where would you go, then?" Loki was condescending, sure that she would concoct some tale about magical lands made of sugar or whatever went on inside her tiny head.

Instead she pleasantly surprised him again. "I want to go somewhere I can be alone and read."

Loki wasn't sure, as he wasn't sure with anything to do with Midgard, but he had an idea that young ones did not usually want such things.

"Why?"

April scrunched her face up. "There's always stuff to do. Sometimes I don't want to do them, I only want to sit and read. But Mom says that's lazy…and that's all that Papa does."

Before Loki could find something to say in response there was a voice calling 'April?' from the house, and he made himself unseen to everyone but the girl. April jumped up, frantically brushing the dirt off her dress.

"Stay here." she held her palms out at him like she was commanding a dog, grabbing his plate before spinning on her heel and darting through the screen door into the house.

Naturally Loki sneered at the order and followed her, standing in the kitchen to watch April speak to her mother.

"What were you doing outside, honey?"

April stood leaning against the bottom cabinets of the counter, looking innocent as could be. "Playing."

"Oh." her mother was washing dishes. She saw the plate and fork April had set near the sink and frowned in confusion. "I thought you didn't like the carrot cake."

Noticing that Loki was in the room but invisible to her mother, April shrugged. "I changed my mind."

"Good. We've got too much of it." the water shut off and the woman wiped her hands on her jeans, turning around to rest her back on the counter much like her daughter was doing. April looked little like this woman besides her gray eyes. "Hey, I have a great idea."

April perked up, eyes like saucers with excitement. "What is it?"

"Why don't we spend the rest of your summer vacation at Grandpa's lake house?"

It was like a small explosion had gone off inside her little body. Loki watched, perplexed, as her hands flung up to cover her mouth and she made a small noise like a teapot going off. April looked up at her mother like something earth-shattering had just been said, but all Loki had heard was something about a lake house, which sounded very ordinary.

"Really, Mom?" April asked in an undertone. "For the rest of the summer?"

Tanya grinned down at the enthusiastic girl, nodding. "Three whole weeks. Sound good, then, April?"

"Yeah! When are we going?"

"First thing in the morning."

April squealed again, running over to Loki and grabbing his hand, jumping up and down with it. "We're going to the lake house!"

"April…who are you talking to?"

Loki had frozen the moment April looked at him, but now the girl was horrified as well. She immediately let go of his hand, lips parting as she floundered for a quick explanation. "Uh, it's just my – imaginary friend."

The god standing invisible in her kitchen made a face at her. Imaginary friend indeed.

"Your imaginary friend?" questioned her mother, the set of her jaw concerned and her eyes positively panicked. "How long have you had an imaginary friend?"

Deciding that honesty was the best route, April put on her best guiltless face. "Only last night. He showed up in my room and we played in the back yard. It was actually him that ate the carrot cake."

Loki glared at the child so hard he was certain she could feel it, but she only batted her eyelashes at her mother, who was suddenly rather pale. "I see. B-but you know he's not real?"

"Yeah, Mom. He's just my pretend friend." April beamed.

Appearing to feel less unnerved, Tanya nodded and wiped her brow. "Okay…"

"I'm going to go pack!" exclaimed April, beginning to skip past her mother and Loki to get to the stairs. But she skidded to a halt, turning to look at Tanya again with a stern expression. "Are you and Papa packed yet? 'Cause you should so we'll be ready."

Loki rolled his eyes at her eagerness, but Tanya cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Well, April, the thing about that is-"

"I can help you pack, so it'll get done faster." April was practically dancing. "All we need is just a few changes of clothes 'cause we can wash them in the lake and wear them over again, and our swim suits, and some toys, and books for me and Papa to-"

"Honey, Papa isn't coming."

April's mouth stopped moving like it had been frozen in time. Her excited hands fell limp at her side, and a betrayed look entered her eyes. Loki went rigid, hoping she wouldn't cry again. "Why?"

The woman in the kitchen ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. "It's hard to explain, April. There are things that you won't be able to understand until you're older."

"I want to understand now!" shouted the girl, startling both god and mortal with the passion in her voice. "Papa has to go!"

After being stunned into silence for a moment Tanya flushed in anger. "April Louise, you do not get to talk to Mommy like that!"

"I won't leave Papa." April shook her head, backing away from the kitchen. "He won't be here when we come back."

How had she known? Loki saw the same bewilderment in the mother's eyes as his own, but hers also held fear and guilt. "April, I -"

April didn't stay to listen, sprinting up the stairs as fast as her short legs would carry her. Papa hadn't been in his chair, so she knew he was in the bedroom. He didn't go into his office on his bad days. The door was shut, and April pushed it open without knocking. Papa was on his back, still in pajamas, halfway covered by a sheet. His eyes looked blankly up at the ceiling, the only sound in the room the whir of the fan directed on Papa. The only evidence that he was even alive was the steady rise and fall of his stomach.

"Papa." said April firmly, though her voice quivered a little. "Get up and pack."

Loki stood in the doorway, his eyes riveted on the girl as she marched up to her comatose father and put both hands on his shoulder to shake him. A memory came to him suddenly, like whiplash, of himself as a child watching his father in the Odinsleep. The terror that gripped him like a cold hand as he sat at the Allfather's bedside, unsure if his father would ever wake up again.

He was sure that this mortal felt the same way he had.

Her hands twisted into his shirt, pulling. "Up, Papa! Get out of bed!" a little sob slipped out against her will, and she sucked it back in. "Please, Papa?"

A strange pain in his chest made Loki step forward, his hand gently cupping April's shoulder. She jumped, looking back at him with shining orbs brimming with sorrow. He began to guide her away from her father. "Come. He cannot hear you."

"He has to…" she was letting Loki lead her, but she seemed to continue to reach for the motionless figure on the bed.

Shaking his head slowly, Loki removed her from that room, moving towards her own. "You mustn't think about it. There is nothing you can do."

"But my Papa-"

"Your Papa is not there now." as he went into April's room behind her and shut the door, Loki remembered the words that his mother had said to him when she found him fretting over the sleeping Odin. "All you can do is live happily, which is what he wants for you. Until he returns."

His mother had ended her soothing by laughing and tousling his hair, telling him 'He will always wake from the Odinsleep, son'. But now Loki wasn't so sure that was true of his own father, and he felt little hope for the lifeless man in the next room.

April stood near her bed, looking to Loki for answers. "Will he come back?"

For once, Loki had the notion that he should lie to the child. "Yes."

"Don't lie." she muttered immediately. "I can tell."

Loki nodded, discarding that foolish notion. Of course she would know. "I do not know if he will or not."

It was clear April was distraught, staring around her room like she had never seen it before. Taking pity on her again, Loki scooped her up under her arms and set her down on her bed. She didn't seem like she was going to lunge at him again, so Loki sat down beside her and clasped his hands on his thighs. There were a few long moments spent in quiet, but neither party felt uncomfortable. Eventually April verbalized her thoughts faintly.

"How come this is happening to him?"

He didn't know the answer, which was rather upsetting to the god. "I do not comprehend the workings of human minds. I could not say."

April shuddered, hugging herself tightly. The fabric of her tiny world was unraveling, and Loki was impressed she wasn't focusing on herself. By nature he was a selfish beast, and he knew that mortals were the same way. Yet this inconsequential, accidental combination of flesh and water did not mourn for her own loss. She mourned for her suffering mother and father.

"Can you help him?"

He had been dreading this question. Loki frowned and shook his head. "I cannot. My powers on Midgard allow me only to change things which are physical…" so far as he knew. Loki was no longer sure of his abilities in this realm, and he did not want to give the girl false hope.

The pair of petite shoulders at the side of him slumped, and April started tugging on a strand of her long hair. Loki noticed she did this hen she was upset. "Then…will you come with me?"

"Where?" Loki was confused.

April twisted her hair around her fingers. "The lake house."

Loki debated inside his head. What was he gaining from staying here? Why had he stayed as long as he had? Something about watching this girl's life like a phantom or an audience member at a play entertained him, fascinated him, and possibly even invigorated him. He felt some unexplainable camaraderie towards the whelp, though she could talk enough for three people twice her size, and she was constantly either shocking him or disrespecting his authority as a god.

It was new. And he liked it. Damn.

"Please, Loki?" she begged him, surprisingly non-whiny for a five-year-old, unaware he was already going to say yes. "I don't want to…be alone."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"Only sometimes." admitted April sheepishly. "Not this way."

If he was going to say no, he would have changed his mind when she turned the full force of her dove-gray puppy dog gaze on her.

"Fine." Loki tried to seem irritated and did a good job.

Her sad grimace transformed seamlessly into a giant smile. "Thank you, Loki!"

Mortals were really much more complicated than he thought they were.

****I've soooo wanted to delve into Loki's character, and I hope I'm doing a decent job. Anyway, I adore writing this. I love all you guys that favorite and whatnot, so thanks. I'd love some lovely comments, but I'm honestly just happy you read this. If you go this far. But still thanks!****


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